


Alliance

by DiamondHeartbreaker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8996419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondHeartbreaker/pseuds/DiamondHeartbreaker
Summary: Resistance intelligence officer Cassian Andor is begrudgingly forced to take a member of Poe Dameron's X-wing squadron with him on a reconnaissance mission by General Organa. As their mission progresses, uncertainties and unexpected developments are abundant, as both discover the other to not quite be as they expected. OC x Cassian Andor. Hints of OC x Poe Dameron.





	1. The X-Wing Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter in the series! It takes Cassian and inserts him as the same character in the TFA time period because I love him too much. Protagonist is written with a name because I'm not great at writing in second-person, but I highly encourage a quick 'copy/paste' with a 'ctrl + f' to replace with your name for a true “X Reader” fashion story. I hope you enjoy! It’s a slow build but I’ll be updating frequently!
> 
> [Replacement Key: “Moira” - Your First name, “Dehaan” - Your last name]

The howls of descending ships surrounded Moira as she sat, curled up in her X-Wing. The freshly cut engine continued to hum as it worked it’s way to a slumber on the platform of the Resistance base. Her cabin rattled along with it, slammed by the thick rain of the planet Levi.  
She could hear the triumphant whoops and yells of other pilots around her, as they jumped from their own ships to embrace and celebrate with one another despite the weather. Their mission had been successful despite the utterly narrow odds. Though, if it weren’t for her, there would have been no odds at all. Moira was trying her best to ignore them; to just focus one one thing: breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth, she repeated diligently. With each breath, she saw the shaking in her hands dissipate, and the darkness fringing in on her vision fade away. Though she had come out better than expected for the magnitude of her actions, she still did not feel readily inclined to climb out of the cockpit and into the bustling rebel base.

But then two loud raps came on the side of her ship - a call that she couldn’t decline. With a final deep breath, she unlatched her restraint and pulled off her helmet. She allowed herself a moment to clutch it, to recenter herself staring into the abyss of chipped, black paint that so often graced her head. But like most moments, it quickly passed. Heavy handedly, she opened the hatch and began a clumsy descent to the ground. That’s where she found Poe, standing with his own helmet under his arm, looking at her with his eyes wide.

Thick locks of hair stuck to his face, rain having already thoroughly drenched him. Unable to conjure anything meaningful to say in that moment, she just took several dragging steps towards him. Luckily, it seemed he already had an objective. Without hesitation, he met her more than half way, embracing her in his arms. As wet and cold as he was, the comfort it brought was more than welcome.

“That was amazing.” he whispered. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Me neither,” she muttered back, as he released her. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Poe asked, turning to follow her dazed look. Behind him stood a slew of other pilots, all heartily taking a beating in the rain. Most stood with wide smiles on their faces, while others boasted the same look of awe Poe had. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “This what happens when you work a miracle.”

“Lieutenant Moira Dehaan?”

The pair turned to see Admiral Statura marching towards them, rather out of breath and donning a thick, yet official looking raincoat.

Moira stepped towards him. “Yes, Admiral?”

“The General would like to see you,” he breathed. “Immediately.”

She looked back at Poe cautiously. He gave her a small smile and a nod, though it did little to calm her suddenly anxious nerves.

“Of course, Admiral,” she asserted, clearing her throat. As Moira walked with him, past the pilots, a small cluster of applause broke out among the them. Several even shouted her name as she walked past or clapped her on the back. And, despite the ball of anxiety that had amassed within her, a smile snuck onto her lips as she followed Statura through the rain.

* * *

 

“Lieutenant, thank you for coming.” General Organa began, standing as Moira entered the meeting room with the Admiral.The room was small, with glass panels reflecting into the outer command center. In the corners were built up piles of papers and various trinkets that gave her the notion that the room was more often used as a storage space than a meeting place.

Moira nodded at Organa, eyes momentarily shifting to the man standing behind her who boasted a rather stern demeanor. He stared back at her acutely, dark brown eyes penetrating the casual look she had given him. She swallowed nervously, looking anywhere but at him.

“Please don’t think you’re in any sort of trouble, my dear,” the General said, crossing to Moira and grasping her hands after seeing the terrified expression on her face. “Above all else, I simply wanted to thank you for your brave actions today. You very well saved the lives of at least half of our fleet, at the risk of your own.”

Moira looked down, flattered but abashed. “Thank you, General. But I was just doing my duty as a member of the Resistance.”

Organa smiled up at the girl, releasing her hands. “You’re a good soldier. And humbler than most. Please,” she motioned to the table before Moira. “Have a seat. I’d just like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind. I’ll be quick. I’m sure you’re a bit tired from all the commotion of today.”

“Whatever you need, General,” she replied, sitting down across from Statura.

“Thank you.” Organa resumed her position at the head of the table, quickly tinkering with a small device in front of her. “Before we begin, I’d like to introduce you to Captain Cassian Andor, of Resistance intelligence,” Organa motioned to the dark haired man behind her. “He’ll be sitting in on this meeting.”

Cassian nodded at Moira, crossing his arms. Out of habit, she flashed a smile at him, this time holding a bit better under his stare.

“Now, Lieutenant,” Organa began. “You’ve been with the Resistance for how long?”

Adjacent to her, Statura pulled out a holopad, suddenly rather diligent.

“A couple months,” she replied.

“And before that?”

“I served the New Republic as a member of their elite starfighter fleet for almost two years with the standard four years of Academy training leading up to it before Poe - er, Commander Dameron, recruited me.”

“And based on your training reports, besides your expertise as a pilot, your next highest proficiencies are in reconnaissance and combat engagement?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Have you ever had any interest in serving a different wing of the cause?”

Moira opened her mouth for a split second before stopping to formulate a different answer. “Well, I suppose I’d fight wherever the Resistance needed me.”

“That’s appreciated.” The General exchanged a glance with Statura before continuing onward. "And lieutenant, you were born on Yavin 4, is that correct?”

Moira blinked, a bit taken aback by the change of subject. “Uh, yes that’s right.”

“And would you say you’re still familiar with the terrain?”

Moira nodded. “Yes, General. I’m there at least a couple times per year.”

“Good. Then tomorrow I’d like you to accompany Captain Andor on a recon mission to Yavin 4.”

The captain coughed rather suddenly behind Organa.

“Wait, what?” Moira asked, furrowing her brow. “A reconnaissance mission on Yavin?

"Yes. Unfortunately, we’ve had reports pointing towards the First Order attempting to establish some kind of presence there. We think they may be attempting to data mine the leftovers of our old Alliance base.”

“Isn’t that base more than 30 years abandoned?”

Organa nodded. “It’s a desperate move, certainly. What do you think?”

Moira shrugged. “If… if that’s where you need me, General, I’ll go.”

Organa smiled. “Good. We’d like to send you out as soon as possible, but we’re still working on finding you a secure position to run surveillance from.”

“Oh. I uh… I know a place we can use.” Moira stuttered sheepishly.

“Fantastic. Then you two will leave first thing in the morning. For now, I’ll let you go get some rest.“

"So, that’s all then?” Moira asked, tepidly rising to her feet.

“Yes, my dear. Unless you had something else you wished to discuss.”

“Oh, no. I just thought you’d wanna talk about, uh,” she scanned the room to find only impertinent expressions looking back at her. “Never mind, actually.”

“Have a good night, Lieutenant.” The General said, standing to shake her hand. “Get some sleep.”

“I’ll try,” Moira replied. She quickly flashed a smile to the room before exiting, possibly more confused than when she had first entered.

As the automated door closed behind her, Captain Andor advanced to the table, rather disgruntled. “You’re sending her with me?"

Organa eyed him from her chair. "Yes. As important as the intelligence is on this mission, I also need someone I can trust to get an unbiased read on her and her abilities. With the circumstances and everything that’s happened today, I can’t think of a better opportunity.

"But, the girl, she doesn’t have actual experience with this type of mission. If you were to just send me alone to Yavin, I could-”

“You need the companionship.” The General interrupted.

Andor squinted at her. “What?”

Organa stood, crossing past him to look out one of the panels of the command center. She watched as the sea of technicians and officers ran about the area, convening and talking and joking with one another. “Captain, you’ve been on mission for the past three months in what I can most kindly describe as solitude. And it seems that in that time you’ve become even more unwelcome to the help of others. Lest you not forget the Resistance is a group effort.”

"I was not that alone,” Cassian argued. “I had Kay with me.”

The General chuckled at him, turning back. “I think we both know that the company of a droid is not quite the same as that of another organic being. She’s going with you. If the Admiral is okay temporarily releasing her from his fleet, that is.”

Statura looked up at them from his holopad, as if suddenly removed from deep thought. “Unfortunately, she’s one of my better pilots and I hate to lose her. But based on the evidence we have; based on the sheer power she demonstrated with the Force today… she could very well be the child we think she is. And that is more than worth investigation.”

"Then it’s decided,” the General said, “Tomorrow, the Lieutenant will accompany you to Yavin 4, Captain Andor.”

Cassian let out an exasperated sigh. “As you wish, General.”


	2. Of Intelligence & Droids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! Again, takes the character of Cassian and inserts him in the TFA period. Protagonist written with a name because writing in second-person kills me. I highly encourage a quick copy/paste with a ctrl + f to insert your name in her place for a true “X Reader” fashion story. Enjoy!  
> [Replacement Key: “Moira” - Your first name, “Arella” - Your middle name, “Dehaan” - Your last name]

“So who did they give you to replace me?”

“Daniels from Gold Squadron,” Poe replied unenthusiastically as he leaned against the alcove wall. The two of them stood tucked in the small space attached to one of the base entrance halls, usually used for extraneous storage. Resistance forces came and went from both directions of the narrow hallway, but paid them little mind. Poe donned the usual orange casuals worn by the pilots on days of tune-ups and diagnostics checks while Moira was dressed subtler. She boasted civilian clothes - light grey pants with a cropped top, and a simple, black belt. A small pouch was rigged onto the belt in addition to a holster - acting as more convenient storage than the large satchel strapped to her back.

“That’s not so bad,” she replied, fiddling with a loose string on Poe’s sleeve.

“I know,” he agreed. “He’s a good pilot. I’d just rather have you.”

Moira looked up at him, certain an obvious blush had developed on her face. “It’s only temporary. I’ll be back soon enough.”

“I’m counting on it,” Poe told her. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Black Four.”

“I do. You’d just replace me with Daniels.”

Poe chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean, kid. Just make sure you come back to me, okay?”

Moira tilted her head to the side. “Poe. It’s just a mission to Yavin. I’m going to be fine.”

He looked on at her, brown eyes locked in a penetrating gaze as he examined her, trying to memorize the features of her face. Moira looked back, uncertain, as he moved towards her, shrinking what little gap was left between them. Ever so gently he reached up to push a stray lock of hair from her eyes. His hand idled on her face, thumb gently brushing against her skin. “I know,” he muttered. “I’m just not used to you going off without me anymore.”

“Poe,” she began, reaching up to place her hand atop his own. “There were entire years were you couldn’t be there to watch over me, and I still came out in one piece.”

“I know. I know. But it’s different now. We’re different.”

“Poe,” she muttered. “What do you mean?”

He moved closer, free hand cupping her waist, and pulling her into him. “I just want to make sure you know… how much I care about you.”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” she whispered.

"I know,“ he muttered back, his breath dancing on her lips.

"Poe…”

“Moira, I-”

“Hate to break this up, but it’s time.”

The pair separated rather suddenly, both taken aback by the interruption. Captain Andor stood looking rather impatient in the hallway before them, a pack slung over his shoulder. He motioned at Moira. “Let’s go.”

“I- I’ll be there in a minute, Captain,“ she replied, still flustered.

He nodded at her, then looked at Poe. Andor’s eyes flickered with an obvious level of distaste before he took off towards the exit.

"I’ve… I’ve got to go,” she muttered, returning her gaze to Poe, heart now beating with urgency rather than excitement.

Poe stared at her, mouth agape for a moment before shaking his head. He pulled her into an affectionate hug. “I know. Please just be careful.”

“Always,” she promised squeezing him back.

Poe suddenly lifted Moira off the ground, making her squeal. “Say hi to home for me.”

“I will,” she giggled back, taking in the warmth of him for as long as she could. After a few, long moments, he set her back down. "Goodbye, Poe.”

“See you later, kid.” He replied, beaming down at her with a certain sadness.

Marina smiled at him once more time before turning to go, adjusting the pack over her shoulders. But before she could make the hall, Poe grabbed her hand. She looked back at him to see, for the first time in her life, that Poe stumbling over his own words.

“I just… I, uh…”

Moira smiled knowingly at him.

Poe shook his head and let out a sigh. “May the Force be with you.”

“It always is,” she whispered back before squeezing his hand and taking off down the hallway.

Emerging onto the platform, Moira’s stomach was still fluttering. Though she had always been more than fond of Poe, that was the first time they had come so close to something more. She tried her best to shake it off as she strode across the tarmac, reminding herself that she’d need to be on her best behavior for the mission. Even so, she felt like there was a piece of her still back there with him.

Once she spotted Captain Andor across the way, she found it easier to focus - if not only due to her abject horror at the decrepit looking freighter he was beside. She approached him carefully, as he disengaged the outer fuel line from the ship.

“Captain Andor,” she announced not sounding nearly as commanding as she hoped. “Sorry for the delay. Anything you need me to do before launch?”

He spared her a glance before continuing onward with his task. “No. We’re almost ready to go. Just get on board.”

Moira nodded and took a deep breath before climbing into the ship, still weary of how her journey with the Captain was to go. It was clear to her that he was less than pleased to have her coming along. She dropped her bag onto an empty seat in the spacious cabin, quickly taking a few seconds to make sure she had packed all the necessities into the well filled satchel. After she was pleased with her thoroughness, she turned to head towards the cockpit.

“Oh my god!” Her hand flew to her chest as she found herself face to face with a seven-foot-tall droid marked with First Order insignia. In a split second, Moira lurched for the blaster in her bag, but was blocked by the droid extending its long arm. She groaned as his steely appendage dug into her ribs.

“Hello. I am K-2SO. I am a reprogrammed First Order enforcer droid. It is good to meet you.”

Moira paused her struggle to look up at the droid before her, reconsidering him as a threat. “Reprogrammed?”

“Yes. By the Captain.” The droid confirmed. “Are you going to shake my hand?”

Moira looked from the droid’s facial structure, down to the limb she was trying so hard to overcome. “Oh.” With only minor hesitation, she backed up and placed her hand into his large metallic one. Though she was only able to grip a few of his long fingers, he seemed pleased. “I’m Lieutenant Marina Dehaan.”

“I know. The Captain already told me.” Kaytoo replied, quickly reversing towards the cockpit.  
She followed closely, made more than curious by such an odd droid. As he folded himself precisely into the co-pilot’s chair, she respectively took a seat in the pilot’s position.

“Lieutenant Moira Arella Dehaan. Resistance pilot of Black Squadron. Firing accuracy of 62%. Confirmed-kill count since joining the Resistance: 54. 36 TIE fighters, four TIE Bombers, and one First Order Transport. Last minute addition to our mission.”

Moira chuckled to herself as she prepped the controls for take off. “Is there anything he didn’t tell you?”

“No.” The droid continued. “Cassian informed me that you do not have the qualifications to accompany us on such a reconnaissance mission. He said you rather obviously lack the cunning and prowess necessary to be a worthwhile intelligence agent for the cause. Nonetheless, we have been forced to bring you along by General Organa, for observation in what the Captain described as a ‘glorified babysitting mission of some Force wielding ch-”

“Kay!” Captain Andor’s voice rang out suddenly, cutting off his robotic meandering.

“There he is now,” Kaytoo stated rather matter-of-factly.

Andor appeared between the two in the cockpit and Moira could feel him gazing down at her as she continued to initiate the freighter’s launch sequence.

“Lieutenant,” Andor mumbled. “I, uh, I’ll be taking over from here.”

Moira turned to look up at him - her expression steely as their eyes met. “Sure. Why bother having me do the one thing I’m actually good at.” She stood abruptly, intentionally colliding with Captain Andor as she pushed past him towards the back of the freighter. Before he knew it, she was climbing her way to the second level of the ship, satchel and all. The metallic porthole closed behind her with a slam.

Andor slumped into the pilot’s seat, letting out a sharp exhale as he ran his hands over his face.

“She seems nice.” Kaytoo stated.

Andor eyed his droid sharply, before shaking his head. “Just get us on course.”

Kaytoo nodded. “Setting route to Yavin 4 now.”


	3. Good Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Replacement Key: “Moira” - Your first name, “Dehaan” - Your last name]

Moira had been working on the starboard router panel for almost an hour when she was finally disturbed. An abrupt clang of the port-door made her flinch, botching the wire connection she had been working on for several pain-staking minutes. Moira had almost forgotten there were other passengers onboard the freighter.  
She looked over to see Captain Andor ascending from the lower level of the ship, footfalls heavy as he climbed the final ladder rungs. Moira pursed her lips and readjusted herself into a crouched position, making sure to wait for the clang of the port-door closing before taking on the circuit once again.

“Lieutenant,” Andor called out as he made his way over to her workstation.

“Captain Andor,” she answered, not eager to greet him with eye contact.

He stopped off to her side, careful not to block what little light she was getting from the ship’s faulty fluorescents. “Is this what you’ve been doing up here?”

“I get restless just sitting around. Especially in something so unkempt.”

Andor nodded, casually crossing his arms. “The Resistance doesn’t exactly have much in the way of civilian ships.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,“ Moira replied as she successfully closed the circuit. An audible sputtering noise that had been plaguing the ship suddenly reduced to a peaceful warble. She set down her pliers and turned to look up at him. "Something I can do for you, Captain?”

He looked down at her, almost betraying a bit of approval before regaining his usual disposition. “We’ll be coming up on Yavin 4 in a few minutes. I need to prep you with the mission itinerary.”

She nodded and returned to the router panel. “If it’s something along the lines of ‘stay with the ship and keep out of my way’, then you can save your breath. I’m at least competent enough to do that without additional instruction.”

Captain Andor frowned as he peered down at her. “Lieutenant, what you heard Kay say earlier-”

“It’s fine,” she mumbled, jamming a pilex driver into an empty socket port.

He heaved a sigh. “You have to understand, in this line of work, it’s better to go it alone. Having someone else on mission, especially someone you barely know, can be a deadly complication. It’s the nature of it. I do not have anything against you personally.”

“So,” she began, wedging out a melted piece of plastic from the mess of wires. “When you implied that I lacked any sort of capacity to succeed on a mission like this - that’s just something you’d say about anyone you got paired with?"

"Yes, it is,” came Kaytoo’s voice over the comlink in Andor’s front pocket. “In fact, he’s said far worse about others to their faces.”

“Thank you, Kay,” he grumbled, reaching for the device.

“You are welcome,” Kaytoo responded just before Andor managed to shut it off.

Moira couldn’t help but laugh as she pushed herself to her feet. “That droid of yours is certainly something else.”

“Not all there, is what he is,” Andor replied, shoving the com back into his pocket.

She wiped the little bit of grease on her hands onto her pants and faced Andor. “Listen, Captain, I know you’re frustrated about being forced to work with me, and that’s fair. I get it. I know I wouldn’t be happy if I had to take a protocol droid into battle with me rather than an astromech, you know? But I’m here on orders too. And the whole point of me being on this mission is so you can observe me, right? So if you work with me, I’ll work with you. And if we do that, we’ll finish the mission even quicker, and we can both get back to doing what we actually want to.”

Andor’s expression remained unchanged as he looked her over. When it came down to it, he had no grounds to oppose her offer. He was certainly not petty enough to go against the will of the Resistance just because of a mild annoyance. Him mouthing off to Kay had already done enough to endanger their mission. “Alright. Together then, Lieutenant,” he replied, extending a hand out to her.

She grinned and took his hand. “You can just call me Moira.”

He nodded. “Cassian. Cassian Jeron Andor.”

“Cassian,” she repeated, smiling. “I think this is the most formal introduction we’ve had.”

Before he could respond, Cassian found himself tumbling towards Moira as their freighter took a sudden bank downwards. Moira groaned as he smacked into her, her head slammed against the wall as the two of them slid into the corner of the ship. Their extreme proximity took a moment for both to process, faces inches from one another as they shared mutual looks of shock. Cassian was quick to prop himself up, removing his body weight from her own. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, rubbing a hand against the back of her head as the ship returned to a more normalized, but quivering balance. “Yeah. But that didn’t seem normal.”

“No, it didn’t,” Cassian replied, pivoting back towards the port-door. He threw open the steel lid, and began a rapid descent to the lower cabin. “Kay! What happened?”

“There you are! We have a problem. There is a field of wreckage sitting directly in the center of our landing path.”

"What?” Cassian asked, jumping the last several rungs and making his way to the cockpit. He looked out to find that they were closing in on Yavin’s outer atmosphere, littered with a thick layer of debris. “Why didn’t you warn us?”

Kaytoo’s head rotated slightly towards Cassian. “I was attempting to do so before you shut off your comlink.”

“That’s not normally here,” Moira muttered as she dropped down from the ladder. She pushed herself between the two to get a closer look. “The only time I’ve ever seen wreckage outside of Yavin is in pictures from the war.”

“Well, if we don’t do something about it soon, we may become a permanent part of it,” replied K-2SO. He waived one arm towards the empty chair beside him.

Cassian and Moira collided as both moved for the pilot’s spot at once.

“Cassian, I can do this,” Moira assured him, her eyes fierce with both conviction and a not so subtle excitement. “Trust me.”

Cassian knew this was no time to argue, but he was apprehensive. The luxury of time was fading and he knew any extra moment spent debating would only further endanger them.. When it came down to it, she was a fully trained pilot. And even if he didn’t fully trust her, he at least had faith in the skill of the Resistance’s pilots.

With dry swallow, Cassian moved out of the way.

Moira gave him a small nod before dropping down into the pilot’s seat with surprising buoyancy. “Kaytoo, try and get whatever shields we can muster up and running. We need all engines activated and maximum energy rerouted to turbine thrusters, please.”

Kaytoo followed her orders, long limbs flipping on several controls with ease. “Please. Now that’s a word I don’t often hear.”

“I’m taking manual control, just watch the fuel distribution levels and make sure proximity warnings are on.” She grasped the set of controls before her, easing down a knob to her right as they came fully into the debris field. Even barely into it, Moira had an overwhelming sense of anomaly in the field – something that she hadn’t encountered before. Mass grouping of debris were common after any destructive battle, but each piece before her seemed more misplaced than the next. The scorch markings were too inconsistent and light to be caused by battle-grade blasters. The scattering of similar looking pieces seemed almost too random while others were clustered too tightly. Some of it didn’t appear to belong in space at all. It felt too constructed, too elaborate.

As she took them through, Cassian found himself preoccupied by one piece in particular. He squinted ahead at a curved hud that was among the largest of the debris.

“That one up there, it… it almost looks like the front of an MC80.”

“One of the old Rebellion cruisers?” She asked in an almost whisper, pulling them up and over a heap of charred steel. “Why would that be out here?”

Cassian shook his head. “That’s what we’re here to figure out.”

The turbulence of their ship was steadily increasing as the debris came closer and closer together.  
“The pull of the outer atmosphere is forcefully accelerating the ship,” Kaytoo warned. “If this path is sustained, it is highly likely that will fatally collide with debris.”

"It’s okay, I have a plan.” Moira promised. Her knuckles were white on the controls but even so, her expression gave way to more delight than fear. “Cassian, you’ll want to strap in. You too, Kay. ” She flipped several switches on the upper starboard and reached across kay to rotate a knob.

“If you initiate the maneuver you seem to be preparing for, our chances of survival will automatically decrease by 23 percent.”

"Kay, strap in,” Cassian commanded, though he was weary himself of what was about to happen as he buckled into a passenger seat.

“We’re now at a 57% chance of survival,” Kaytoo warned once more. “You should know that an atmospheric induced death would be far more painful than one caused by an annihilative collision.”

“Thank you, Kay,” She replied, nonchalantly. “Rerouting all auxiliary power to sub light engines and thrusters. Brace for loss of all extraneous systems.”

Cassian took a deep breath and grasped the belt around his waist as artificial gravity rather suddenly disappeared. For a moment, he pondered if allowing Moira to sit in that pilot’s seat would be the last mistake he’d ever make. But, as she used all the energy the little freighter could muster to swing them over the large, almost unavoidable remains of the MC80, he felt a wave of relief rush over him. Though he wanted to attribute it to the relaxing nature of weightlessness, there was also something comforting about watching her fly. She cleared the debris with ease, despite Kay’s casual promises of death, and even made it look easy despite the numerous warnings that flashed while she did so.  
Kaytoo’s head twisted rather oddly atop his body as he turned to look at the Captain. “Well. You could not have done this, Cassian.”

Moira laughed out loud at the droid, but it seemed more like a hysterical giggle than anything spiteful.

“Hold on, gravity’s coming back on,” she extended her arm out over the droid almost instinctively, pulling him down in the seat just before they lost weightlessness. The three of them dropped lightly into their respective seats, as they successfully entered into the lower atmosphere of Yavin-4. “We should be fine now, at least till we land. You have controls back, Kaytoo.”

“Affirmative,” he replied.

Moira unlatched her belt and headed back towards the cargo hold, where Cassian stood waiting. She paused upon seeing him, meeting his gaze with an expectant hesitation.

“Go get your things,” he told her with a smirk. “We’re gonna need you down there.”

Moira smiled broadly at him and nodded before climbing back to the upper deck.

“Well, she could have killed us,” Kaytoo said to him, as they began the landing cycle over the sunny, jungle moon of Yavin 4. “But she didn’t.”

Cassian nodded, approaching the cockpit. He rested his hand on the upper control panel, watching the scenery unfold around them as they descended. “We’ll see how she does when the mission doesn’t so readily play to her strengths.”


	4. Yavin 4

Yavin 4 was a peaceful moon. The majority of the surface was covered in expansive, green forests and blooming vegetation. Its rich plant life made the air more than breathable to humans, in addition to providing little in the way of natural threats or risks. Despite this, and in much part to it’s galactic obscurity, it was not vastly inhabited. The highest level of activity the moon ever saw was when the Rebel Alliance had called it home. Since then, it had returned to as peaceful a place as ever. But, based on their intel, it seemed the First Order was trying to change all that.

They had hit the moon mid-day, leaving them with only a few more hours of sunlight to take in the lay of the land. Moira and Cassian had gotten about thirty minutes north of the ship when M suddenly broke the silence that had began to sprout between them.

"He'll… be okay, right?"

"What?" Cassian mumbled back. He was following Moira at a rather cursory pace, attention consumed by the holodisk in his hand as he read incoming mission prompts.

"Kaytoo," she called back. "Will he be alright? I feel bad leaving him on the ship."

Cassian chuckled and shook his head. "You pilots and your droids. He will be fine. Kay's a lot tougher than one of your little astromechs."

She threw her arms out into an shrug before they disappeared back under her newly adorned poncho. "Whatever you say, Captain."

“Trust me, having Kay stay on the ship is better for everyone. Taking him with us would just cause suspicion."

"Yeah, I get it. It's gotta be hard to pass off a seven-foot enforcer droid casually. He's not as inconspicuous as, you know, an astromech or something."

Cassian's eyes flashed up from his holodisk. He found himself inexplicably smiling at the bouncing the mess of hair ahead of him. "How much further do we have to go?"

"There's a clearing up on the top of this hill,” she told him, pointing upwards in the direction they were already headed. “If I remember right, it should give you a decent view of the old rebel base."

"And then how much further to the compound?"

"Maybe half a click. It's pretty close now."

Cassian nodded, picking up his pace to stride beside her. He pushed his pack off of one of his shoulders, reaching in to exchange the holodisk for a pair of macrobinoculars. "Once we get up there, stay quiet and low. We don't know how wide of a perimeter they've set."

Moira nodded, allowing him to take the lead up the mound.

The temperature change in the clearing was brutal. The sun had been out in full force that day, and if weren't for the excess of canopy cover, they would have certainly fallen victim to heat exhaustion already. However, it was a small price to pay. Their view of the Great Temple was more than decent; it was astonishing.  
The pair took position behind an old metal slab that sat in the center of the clearing, slowly being consumed by plant life. Moira readied herself, keeping an eye out around them and actively awaiting Cassian's next instruction. But, after catching a glimpse of his expression, she realized it wouldn't be so prompt.

Cassian's mouth sat ajar as he stared out over the horizon at the series of temples laid out before them. Each stone creation was as remarkable as the next, but the Great Temple stood out with particular magnitude. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards as he took it in, his wonderment almost child-like. His eyes rabidly consumed the image of the highly romanticized and legendary rebel base. An odd feeling sat in the pit of his stomach - one that he couldn’t quite place. He decided, if anything, that it was a mix of reverence and nostalgia.

Moira smiled at him, all too knowingly. "There's nothing like seeing it for the first time, huh?"

He turned to her slightly and nodded, still in a slight daze. There was a flicker of elation in his tired eyes that seemed all too rare. "It's… bigger than I expected."

Moira chuckled and looked back out at the temples. "Just like the Rebellion. But I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times I got lost playing in there as a kid."

Cassian shot her a curious look, but forced himself to swallow his interest, remembering the mission at hand. He mentally kicked himself for allowing his distraction to last so long. “I’m going to get a closer look. Watch my back.” Cassian began leveraging himself atop the steel remains as discretely as possible, bringing the macrobinoculars to his eyes as the heat beat down on him.

"Aye, aye, Captain," Moira mumbled as she turned her back against the slab.

At first, glance, the temple seemed deserted - as he assumed it was supposed to. But the harder Cassian looked, the more peculiarities he noticed. Tucked in the outer corners were piles of debris, not unlike what they had encountered earlier, that looked as if they had been dragged out from within the temple. In addition, subtle pathways had been made in the surrounding vegetation, heading out in various directions about the base. But most incriminating was the quick glimmer of light he caught within the hangar. Increasing the magnification, Cassian stared into the dark, bottom section of the temple, desperate to reassure himself of what he saw. Moments ticked by as he held the macrobinoculars steady to eyes. Even when Moira began to stir beside him. Then it finally came again. The glint was unmistakable.

"Stormtroopers."

Cassian almost nodded, prematurely processing what Moira had said. He immediately pushed off the rubble, dropping the binoculars to see her looking more than alert. She was stuck somewhere between a crouch and preemptive running position.

"Where?" He whispered, leveling with her.

Moira pointed across the clearing, towards the woods in the back.

It took him a moment, but he saw them, still far enough away that only occasional glimpses of their white armor came through the trees. Cassian counted two, rounding the wooded section and heading towards a natural opening into the field. “Looks like a patrol," Cassian confirmed, quickly stuffing the rogue macrobinoculars into his bag.

"What’s the plan?" Moira asked, eyes wide as she bounced on her toes. "Run or fight?"

"Neither. They'll see us if we run. And if we start firing at them them, they'll just send for another patrol, probably with more men.”

"Then what do we do?"

Cassian smirked. "We improvise. Take off your pack." He began to quickly unbutton his shirt in front of her while she just looked on, perplexed. Cassian reached out and ruffled her hair. "Trust me, Dehaan.”

Moira only hesitated for a moment more before dropping her pack on the ground, continuing to mess up her hair.

Cassian nearly threw himself down on the glade before motioning Moira over. She slid down beside him as the Stormtroopers began to round the bend into the clearing.  
“Just play along,” he muttered. Then Cassian was up against her, forcing their bodies down on the ground in an entangling of arms and legs. She quickly latched onto his idea and wrapped her arms around him, running one hand down his back. Cassian pressed an arm into her hip, forcing his way under to get a full grip on her waist before burrowing his head into her neck. His lips just barely grazed her skin as he got adjusted, sending a chill down her spine despite the overwhelming heat. An embarrassed thought reassured her that it was just due to the stress and adrenaline of the situation and nothing more.

"Hey! What’s going on over here? Break it up."

“Here we go,” Cassian muttered as he pulled away from her.

They both carefully sat up, Cassian making sure to keep both hands tight on her and hidden beneath the cloak.

"What do you think you’re doing?”

He put on a scarily genuine smile. "Sorry, sir. My wife and I were just on our way to visit some friends when we got a little... distracted." He playfully nudged Moira, readjusting their positioning so that one of his hands rested atop the blaster on her thigh.

"This is a restricted area," the Stormtrooper continued. "You can't be here."

"I'm so sorry, sir. We didn't know," Cassian replied, carefully unholstering the blaster. “We’re just travelers, passing through.”

Instinctively, Moira clutched the hand that still rested on her waist, her palm clammy as she sat, subject to whatever choice he would make.

The Stormtrooper stared back, taking in their statement, as the other scanned the field.

Beneath her cloak, Cassian had fully aimed the blaster and sat waiting.

Moments that felt like minutes passed, filled only with the intermittent sounds and sizzling heat of the environment around them. Then, finally, the first Stormtrooper spoke. "Alright, just finish up here quickly and be on your way."

"Yes, sir," Cassian responded. “Of course.”

Yet the Stormtroopers hesitated.

Moira cleared her throat. "Don't worry, boys. He's always quick."

Cassian's grip on her waist became tighter and she swore she heard him mutter something under his breath.

A light chuckle arose from the second Stormtrooper. He gently tapped his buddy on the shoulder who waived him off. He shook his head and readied his weapon in his hands.

"Alright. All hail the First Order," stated the trooper, sounding copiously exhausted.

"All hail the First Order," replied Cassian and Moira, mirroring about the same level enthusiasm.

The trooper gave them one final nod before motioning his counterpart onward with him.

The two of them remained utterly still until the Stormtroopers were clear of the area. When Cassian pushed her blaster back into it’s holster, Moira took it as a sign that she could breathe again.

"Next time, let me do the talking," Cassian said, shooting her a thin look of annoyance.

"You told me to play along. I played along.”

Cassian’s expression was deadpan. “You did so dangerously. Not all Stormtroopers will be as blasé as those two were.”

“They seemed tired,” Moira noted. “Maybe overworked?”

Cassian conceded a nod to her. “The First Order may be spread thin here. Whatever this is, it feels off the books to me.”

Moira furrowed her brow. “The First Order doing things off the book? Why?”

“You’d be surprised what their officers will do to try and get ahead.” Cassian straightened himself, preparing to stand, when his eyes shot down to Moira’s cloak and lingered there.

Cassian found an odd pleasure in watching her transition from confusion to realization as her cheeks turned a violent pink. She flippantly released his hand from against her, scooting away as if he were diseased. “S-sorry. I didn’t realize that I was still…”  
“It’s okay,” Cassian stood, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. “I won’t tell your boyfriend.”

Moira followed suit, brushing the particles of dirt from her legs as she rose. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Cassian shot her an incredulous look as he slung his momentarily abandoned pack over his shoulder. He grabbed Moira’s from the ground and thrust it into her arms. “If you say so.”

“I am saying so,” she reaffirmed, resuming her lead. “No boyfriend. Just boy friends.”

“Ah. Then earlier, what I saw was just you being friends with the commander?”

Moira’s step caught for a second in the brush. “Yeah. It was. We’re good friends.”

“I should warn you that Dameron has had quite a lot of ‘good friends’.”

Moira smacked a low hanging branch out of their way as they reentered the canopy of the forest, the broken limb splintering to the ground. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cassian snickered and shook his head. “I’ve been with the Resistance a lot longer than you. I know my fair share.”

“Alright, then what is it exactly you’ve got against Poe?”

There was a tempered silence between them as Cassian formulated his response. “I have a certain respect for Commander Dameron and what he does for the Resistance.”

“But?” Moira inserted for him.

“You won’t like what I have to say,” he warned her.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” she replied with a dry sarcasm.

“Fine.” Cassian let out a shallow sigh. “He’s horribly problematic. He’s an ace pilot, yes - maybe our best. But he’s arrogant and reckless. Every mission he completes, he deviates from the mandate somehow, then writes it off as ‘unforeseen complications’, leaving someone else to clean up the mess. Not only that, but he takes unnecessary risks with his own life and the lives of everyone who flies under him. The spirit he encourages is not a courageous one, like he boasts, but a wild one; a dangerous spirit that serves to ail the Resistance and its easily influenced members.”

Then there was silence between them once again. Moira’s steps became a bit more vigorous as they continued through the forest.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like it,” Cassian reminded her.

“People are allowed to have different opinions,” she grumbled. “This is just one point we greatly disagree on.”

“So what’s your argument for Dameron then?”

Moira threw a look back at him. “I don’t want to debate. I like him, you don’t. It’s fine.”

“The way you’re acting; it doesn’t seem fine.”

“Well it is,” she hissed, sliding through some trees down a decline in the path.

“So you vehemently call him your friend, but can’t produce a level headed defense of him?”

She didn’t respond, but instead increased her pace.

“Really? Nothing?” Cassian pressed. “I see. Looks like deep down you probably agree with me, but you’re too afraid to admit it to yourself. Too blinded by your love for him. I promise, whatever you think you are to him, you’re not. He’s just using you to satisfy his ego. Once he gets what he wants, he’ll toss you aside like all the other girls.”

Moira stopped dead in her tracks and turned on her heel, marching straight up to him. Her hands balled into white-knuckled fists as she glared up at Cassian, a small stream of sunlight casting an amber gleam in her eye. “Listen. You don’t know a god damn thing about Poe and I,” she seethed. “You have no clue what we’ve been through together. You clearly do not know him and you certainly don’t know me. So shut the hell up about it.”

Cassian glowered back at her, expression cool as ever. “Or what?”

Moira did not respond right away. Instead she let out several sharp exhales, her chest rising and falling with each humid gasp of air. She stared into Cassian’s dark eyes, her anger dissipating with each steady breath as she read into him. “You’re pushing me on purpose, aren’t you?”

His eyes flickered with what she hoped was surprise. Cassian didn’t say anything but he didn’t deny it either.

Moira simply shook her head. “Unbelievable. What kind of fucked up mission is this?” She raised an arm, pointing off towards the quickly darkening side of their path. “The compound is behind that tree cluster over there. Code to get in is one-one-three-eight.” She retightened the satchel on her back and pushed past him.

“Where are you going?” Cassian demanded as she trudged away.

“To talk to my parents. At least I know they won’t try to manipulate me.”

Cassian sighed and watched her go. He was just doing as his mission mandated him to. Simply challenging her wasn’t even comparable to the ruthless, unconcerned acts he had to pull on other missions. But, even after reassuring himself with such a reminder, he felt a heaviness settle into the pit of his stomach. And for the first time, in a long time, Captain Cassian Andor felt the weight of guilt.


	5. Memories

Cassian found the compound as promised, well camouflaged into the forest. It was a small, circular building that looked long unoccupied, but still well kept. As he rounded it, he came into another clearing, though much less vast than the one earlier. It housed several quaint adobes - almost enough to make up a little neighborhood. His scans, however, read negative for life in the area. It seemed those days had long passed.

Walking into the home was almost like walking into an interior design advert. The home boasted everything from paintings and statues to purely decorative furniture. Even the furniture that looked useable seemed unlived in. Each item was meticulously placed and balanced to offset another piece or angle in the room. And, the most prominent of all decorations, were the photographs. Dozens of them filled the empty spaces on the walls, tables, and surfaces - almost abrasively, he thought.

Cassian set down his things by the door and delved deeper into the house, feeling himself pulled in by a photograph on the far wall; a large print, set deep in an elegant silver frame. In the middle of the photo was Moira, still a child. She stood between a woman and man, smile wide and unadulterated, barely tall enough to breach their waists. The man, who he assumed was her father, was proudly holding a bushel of wood berries while her mother stood mid-laugh beside him, thick dark curls framing her face. 

Below the large frame, sat what looked like the most recent of mountings - Moira’s formal Academy photo. He heaved a sigh as he looked at her, the girl pictured still so bright-eyed and fresh faced. She hadn’t changed much since then - at least not physically. The gleam in her eye was still the same, if not a bit more weathered.

His stomach squeezed again, as the unusual feeling of guilt relapsed within him. He tried to push it away, to reassure himself of his job, but it was hard when it was so clear to him that she was good natured - kind, intelligent, and positive, if not a bit frivolous. And Cassian couldn’t help but feel a certain shame for the invasiveness of his mission, for even leaning into the inclination that she was anything less than righteous about the Resistance. A sneaking bite of regret reminded him of his efforts to manipulate her so quickly after convincing her to trust him. Cassian knew he did not have the same good nature as her. And perhaps that was what made him so desperate to preserve hers. 

Cassian turned away from the photos, disheartened and a bit ashamed. He crossed back to his bag to pull out the holopad with the intention of continuing his work until Moira decided to stop playing hide and seek. But when he looked back up, he found himself eye level with a rather familiar looking little droid, though it looked much cleaner than the last time he’d seen it rolling around the base. Beside the droid sat Moira, maybe in her early-teens. She still wore a smile, but this time with a certain sadness that he had yet to see. And, next to Moira, was unmistakably a younger Poe Dameron. He smiled widely, one arm around Moira’s waist, pulling her close - his hair was shorter and face less engraved with lines than Cassian recognized him to be now. He wore the same New Republic uniform that it seemed Moira would don years later. Cassian gently dragged his fingers over it, consumed by his curiosity. The photo caught on his skin, dislodging itself from the frame and into his hand. He looked down at it, surprised, and flipped it over to find a hand written note.

‘24 ABY. Poe heading back to the Academy. Kissed Moira on the cheek before he left. She cried for two days. She misses him terribly.’

Cassian backed away from the wall, setting down the photo on the nearest ledge. He suddenly felt all too close to it. So unexpectedly deep in her life without permission, without preparation. His eyes found their way to more and more photos of her, many with Poe, many with her family, and many of just a young, bright faced girl.

“Damn it,” Cassian muttered, breath catching in his teeth. He grabbed his blaster and took off out of the house.

* * *

“They’re testing me. And I understand why. I get, why. I just wish they would tell it to me straight, you know? Sit me down and talk to me instead of whispering in secret as if everyone doesn’t know what I can do.” Moira shook her head. “It’s so frustrating. This sort of thing, it’s just been chasing me everywhere. People lying to me or sugar coating things or giving me half truths. I hate it.”

An incoming breeze rearranged the scattered leaves on her parents’ grave stone as darkness began to loom overhead. Moira ran her hand over the cool marble, fingers gliding through the ridges of their names with a loving delicacy.

“I just want the truth,” she murmured.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

She turned to see Cassian slowly stepping towards her through a dense collection of trees. What little light was left outside caught on his cheek bones, casting shadows over the hollows of his face.

“Cassian,” she breathed, obviously surprised to see him.

He motioned to a spot beside her. “May I?”

Moira nodded at him, expression both curious and cautious.

Cassian sat down on the ground, resting his arms around his knees and gripping his wrists. He looked up at the gigantic oak tree that stood behind the grave, its long branches hugging the area around them in shadow. “You and Commander Dameron. You’ve known each other for a long time.”

“I’m guessing you found your way into my mother’s shrine alright then?”

Cassian nodded.

“I’ve known Poe for as long as I can remember. His family lived close and our parents were good friends. I grew up playing sidekick to him. Even though he was older than me, he never treated me any worse for it. He always looked out for me and had my back. He’s the only person left in my life who I can wholeheartedly trust. So, when you said what you did…”

“I’m sorry, Moira.” Cassian told her, looking down at the decaying leaves at his feet. “I was wrong to do that.”

She blinked at him, not exactly sure how to process an apology from him. “It’s your mission, isn’t it?”

“Do you really want the truth?” He asked in a mutter.

“I… Yeah. I do.” She responded, staring over at him intently.

Cassian let out a sigh. “Bare with me. As you know, after the Battle of Endor, the Empire was in it’s death throes and doing anything to survive. Rumor was that they were running a lot of panicked experiments - many of which eventually became the seeds for the rise of the First Order. But a small number of them were centered around the creation and manipulation of Force sensitive children. According to the files, many of those involved with the projects, scientists and children alike, just… disappeared in those final years.”

“You mean they were killed.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It was a chaotic time, people were defecting left and right. A lot of people just slipped through the cracks. It would not have been hard for someone to do so, and take one of those kids with them.

“So… what? You’re telling me is that they think I’m one of those children? That that’s how my parent’s got me?”

“The timeline fits. You’re the right age. And the abilities you’ve demonstrated match up with what the desired outcome of the experiment would have been.

Moira sat silently, mulling it over in her mind.

"It’s just a theory,” he told her. “Whether or not you are, my mission is to get a read on you and your power if I can. That’s it. The General, was adamant about not pushing you to do anything.”

“Yet you thought you’d try anyways,” Moira quipped.

His mouth dangled open for a moment. “I…”

“I’m just kidding,” she told him with a light chuckle, reaching out and pushing him gently. “But really, Cassian, thank you.” 

He nodded, returning his attention back the great oak tree before them. Another breeze wafted through, sending waves through their hair as they sat side by side in silence. The tree quivered, sending, more leaves falling upon the cold stone plaque between them.

"Your parents… how old were you when they passed?” Cassian asked, softly.

“Older than most,” she replied, glancing down at the grave. “Nineteen.”

“Still too young.”

"Do you still have yours?” Moira asked, looking over at him.

"No,” he replied casually. “They’ve been gone since I was six.”

Moira frowned, her heart aching at the thought of such a child so young losing their entire world. “I’m sorry. That’s awful.”

He looked at her and shook his head. “People always say that to me. They think that because I was so young, it must have been so awful. And maybe it was. But they died so early that I’ve lived my whole life without them. It’s hard to miss a family I have no memories of. I learned how to live without needing anyone else.”

“That’s sad,” she murmured, not monitoring the bluntness of her response.

Cassian raised his eyebrows at her, lips pursed.

She turned away, thinly veiling the blush on her cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you’re right,” he admitted. “It is. But you, had a real relationship with your parents. You had them with you into your adult life. You made memories with them, made real connections with them. Truly learned to love them, to appreciate them. And then you had to lose them. I cannot imagine what that was like.”

A sob involuntarily caught in Moira’s throat. She had no desire to be so suddenly emotional, so weak in front of a man she had known for barely a day. Yet, there she sat with him, trying to keep it together as tears began to spill from her eyes. She had cried so many times before, so many times by herself. But something about having someone else say that to her, something about him saying it, just pushed her over the edge. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Moira wiped at her face with the fabric of the poncho. “No, it’s fine. I’m just a baby, remember, like you said? A big baby ‘obviously lacking the cunning and prowess necessary needed’ to just keep it together.”

He looked at her for a moment, processing her words And then Cassian was legitimately laughing. Not his usual shallow chuckle, but a laugh that was genuine and warm. And he smiled too. This smile was one that brought out the dimples in his cheeks and made his eyes crinkle and gave way to a sincere expression of joy.

Moira hadn’t seen something so beautiful in a long time.

“You. I don’t understand you at all,” he managed, regaining his composure. “One second you’re crying and the next you’re making jokes.”

She smiled at him mischievously, hints of tear trails still on her cheeks. “I think we both have a lot to learn about each other, Captain Andor.”

Cassian smirked back. “I think you might be right, Lieutenant.”


	6. The Temple

Cassian and Moira sat hunkered down behind a small covering of undergrowth just outside of the Great Temple. Night had fallen on Yavin-4 and their intention was to use that to their advantage. As Cassian had predicted earlier, the outside of the temple was anything but well lit, which he attributed to the Order’s subdued numbers.

Beside him, Moira was stretching her fingers into a pair of black gloves, her night goggles resting around her neck. They had both changed into black guises, though it seemed less than necessary once he saw that Moira was not exaggerating about how dark it got after sundown. Cassian could barely see her beside him, despite the fact that she was less than a meter away. And though he had expected a defiant ‘I told you so’ from her, Moira had been nothing but courteous despite his misgivings. In any case, Cassian was at ease knowing that they would have the darkness as their ally tonight.

“Kay,” Cassian whispered into his comlink, Moira crawling closer to him to hear. “What have you got for us?”

“Well, let me tell you,” came the droid’s electronic timbre from the device. “They certainly don’t make it easy to hack into their communications.”

Moira gave a slight chuckle. “And that’s just one reason they’re no fun.”

Kaytoo continued. “I have surmised that this operation is indeed, not officially sanctioned by the First Order. It is being led by one of their higher ranking members as a personal excursion. They are looking for something, an artifact of some kind, that they believe is here.”

Cassian nodded to himself. “Any clue as to the debris we ran into earlier?”

“It would seem they have been instructed to use the outer atmosphere as a landfill.” Kaytoo said, almost as if he was humored by it. “Once thorough examination and dismantling of rebel ephemerae is complete, it is hauled out there and left to rot.”

Moira and Cassian exchanged perplexed looks through the darkness.

“What else?”                                        

“That is all.” Kaytoo replied.

Cassian furrowed his brow. “That’s all you have?”

“I told you their encryptions were good. If I had their frequency master-key I could provide you with a more thorough report on their communications, of course.”

“How thorough?” Cassian whispered back to his droid.

“A comprehensive read-out of all saved and outgoing communications accessible before mandatory code changes at 06:00 hours.”

“Sounds like a pretty good deal,” Moira murmured, brilliant eyes blinking at him in the darkness.

“I have to agree,” Cassian muttered. He tapped the miniscule datapad attached to his wrist. 22:53. They had a good window. “Where would we find that key?”

“Their communications post,” replied Kaytoo’s nimble voice. “But I have not identified its location within the temple.”

Cassian bowed his head and stared down at his watch, running scenarios through his mind. “Base One…” he began. “It obviously had a communications center of its own, correct?”

Moira nodded.

“You remember where it is in there?”

Her lips tempered, as she searched the recesses of her mind before eagerly nodding once again. “Yeah… Yeah, I remember. Why?”

“Well,” he began, the gruff in his voice surfacing. “Low on resources as they are, I’m willing to bet they’ve rigged their own comms on top of whatever was left by the Alliance.”

She smiled wickedly at him. “I bet you’re right.”

“Alright, Kay,” Cassian huffed to the droid. “Stand by. We’re gonna get you that key.” He shoved the comm back into his pocket, and began searching through the bag at his side. After a moment of rifling through the pack, Cassian felt the small rounded container graze past his finger tips. Inside was a small earpiece and a matching communication link, much smaller than their standard issue models. Cassian dug the piece into his ear and handed the comlink to Moira.

“Another comm?” She asked, rolling the device around in her palm.

“It’s a hard-wired, single-feed connection,” Cassian muttered. “Only full-proof way we have of maintaining an open channel while I’m in there.”

“What? You’re going in alone? But you don’t even know the internal layout.” The goggles around her neck flippantly slid about with her every expressive movement.

Cassian simply shook his head as he double-checked the energy charge of his blaster. “That’s why you’ll be guiding me over the comm.”

“Why not just take me in with you as an actual guide?” She questioned.

“Because this requires stealth. I know well enough how to be inconspicuous on my own but I can’t do that if I have to watch you too.” Cassian’s voice was imposing but cooperative – his words meant to be more commanding than assailing. “Besides, I need you to keep an eye on things out here and cover my back.”

Moira’s lips parted for just a moment before she retracted whatever sentiment she had been about to speak. She instead settled for a nod.

“Alright,” Cassian pulled a datapad from the bag, making a few keystrokes before bringing up a render of the Great Temple. Though dull in any average amount of light, the sudden brightness strained Moira’s eyes.

“Where am I going?”

She frowned as he held it out to her, eyes darting back to him. “You’re not going to like this.”

“I’m sure I’ve heard worse.”

Moira pursed her lips and pointed to the diagram.

“Oh,” Cassian muttered, already feeling winded. Her finger rested gently against the very top of the temple.

 

* * *

 

Yavin-4’s Base One was perhaps the most elaborate headquarters ever held by the Rebel Alliance. Boasting not only an extensive hangar bay and a full height of over thirty-six stories, the Great Temple was further inundated with surreptitious passageways and an extensive underground level. Cassian could only begin to imagine the number of historic things that had been put in motion within the magnificent stone walls. And he could see how easily something could have been looked over or forgotten in the enormous structure. Though he could not say what it was, he was sure the First Order would want to manipulate it for something devious. But perhaps with the communications key and Moira’s extensive familiarity with the temple, they could find it first.

Moira had already effortlessly guided him into the upper levels of the base, rerouted him around an outpost of Stormtroopers, and even gotten him to an unused lift shaft that saved him some dangerous climbing. He was making good time, but that was greatly impart to the sad state of the First Order within the temple. The highest number of troops he had encountered was on the hangar level, several battalions being proudly marched about and dispatched to search, or rather re-search, different areas of the massive space and underground level. Cassian had to wonder if being sent here was basically a punishment for them. It was the most unmotivated and sloppy he had ever seen Stormtroopers. And Cassian had seen a lot.

“You should be hitting the gathering hall soon,” Moira’s voice chirped in his ear as he slid down an empty corridor. “After that, it’s a straight shot up to the comm center.”

“Alright,” Cassian muttered back to her. He still held his blaster at ready, even though he hadn’t seen a single Stormtrooper on the past two levels.

“I really hope you were right. Otherwise, you’ll be going up a lot of steps for nothing.”

Cassian shrugged to himself. “I’ve done far more daunting things for much smaller rewards. Heading past the hall entrance and up the staircase.”

“You know that hall you’re going past is where they held the celebration ceremony for Luke Skywalker after he blew up the original Death Star,” Moira recited quite proudly.

“You don’t say?” Cassian teased in an unimpressed whisper as he began his ascent.

“Okay, well _I_ thought it was cool the first time someone told me that,” she replied, sounding only slightly bitter.  

He could not help but smile at the disgruntled nature of her tone. It was almost endearing.

Cassian continued up the stairs, adjusting his night goggles for the renewed darkness. The steps were daunting and the passageway was narrow. It was nothing that Cassian had not encountered before, but he wouldn’t be keen to call it safe either. “I can’t believe you played here as a child,” he murmured to Moira, suddenly wanting of her distracting babble.

“Well, you can see how it made Poe into the adrenaline-junkie-type you hate so much,” she told him. “A swing set doesn’t really cut it after you’ve dropped into cockpits of old y-wings from bannisters a dozen meters off the ground.”

“I’m surprised you turned out okay.”

“I’ve never quite had the death wish that Poe does,” she admitted, lightheartedly. “I copied him in many ways… but somehow missed out on his charisma and borderline suicidal heroism.”

Cassian snickered. “Thank the Force for that. I think you’re all the better for it.”

Moira’s gentle laughter reverberated over the comm. “I think you might be one of the only people who likes me more than they like Poe.”  

Her upbeat voice was not enough to mask the melancholy words underneath. Cassian was sure it had not been easy for to live in the shadow of the ‘best pilot in the Resistance’. But she had put herself there. She had chosen to follow in his footsteps.  Though if Cassian still had anyone like that – anyone like family - he thought he might keep them just as close.

“If it’s any consolation,” he whispered between labored breaths. “I’ve heard plenty of people speak highly of you.”

Another shrill but quiet laugh. “We didn’t even meet till yesterday,” she quipped back at him

“Sure,” he conceded. “But you really think as an intelligence officer, that I wouldn’t know anything about you?”

“I…” her voice trailed off into silence.

He thought he could almost hear her smiling.

Three more flights of stairs and Cassian was outside of the old communications center. He did not even have to pick the lock. The door slid open immediately under his touch, revealing the room to be entirely void of organic life. The only occupant was a silver, First Order protocol droid. Cassian did not even bother to shoot it, rather just switched it off from behind before it could understand what happened.

Thankfully, his prediction was correct; the droid had been overseeing a series of double rigged switches and panels that looked of standard First Order issue. And there, in the middle of all of it, was the key that Kaytoo had described to him.

It was almost too simple, too clean. A feeling of unease settled in his stomach. _Had the First Order wanted them to intercept their communications? Did they know they were there_? _No_ , Cassian told himself, quickly dismissing the thoughts with his own basic logic. But there was no way to know for sure. All he could do was continue the mission and stay vigilant.

Cassian slipped the datalink into the device, waiting for the indicator light to flash green – indicating a positive connection with Kaytoo’s systems. “It’s in,” he murmured to Moira, surveying the room as the unease in his stomach grew. “I’m getting out now. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Well you’ve got good instincts,” Moira’s voice came, sounding noticeably drearier than usual. “Because there’s an Upsilon-class command shuttle descending on the platform with a TIE-fighter escort as we speak.”

Suddenly Cassian was dashing down the stairs at a less than cautious rate. In his ear, Moira was rattling off everything from possible back up plans to vague snippets of the ensuing chaos outside. Stormtroopers were being called out to ready positions and technicians sprinting about the platform, signaling to one another. It was clear that no one had expected the arrival.

It was the distinct Upsilon nature of the craft that worried Cassian. He knew they were not simply handed out to officers left and right. It was a sign of distinction; a ship that demanded respect.

“Are you safe where you are?” He questioned, interrupting her incessant prattle, barely staying ahead of his own footing.

She didn’t answer him, instead just rambled on.

“There’s a, oh I can’t remember, I think there’s a trash chute that could be wide enough in the adjacent passageway… no. I don’t know there’s a lot of commotion down here, you could sneak out in it, but what if they… fuck, Cassian, I can’t- I don’t-.”

“Moira,” he repeated, his voice more demanding. “Are you safe?”

“I’m, uh,” her feed cut off for a moment, filling his ear with static. “I’m, yeah, just moving.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“Trying to get somewhere… safer, yeah… the hall. The hall, Cassian.”

“What?” He breathed, nearly crashing into the wall of a turn.

“The gathering hall, there’s these great big transparisteel windows,” she was nearly tripping over her own words. “Some of them open up to the outside of the temple. You could climb down – get out on the other side – nothings going on over there. I’ll meet you.”

Cassian thought over her words, mentally analyzing the heights of the pyramid-like blocks that encapsulated the sides of the temple. Each was maybe just a bit taller than himself. It would not be an easy climb but it seemed more than attractive compared to his other options. The darkness would provide all the cover they would get.

“Alright,” he agreed. “Just… please be careful.”

“Always,” she promised.

…

Moira was not being careful as she made her way to meet Cassian at the backside of the temple. She had a thriving curiosity to know just exactly who was heading up such an operation on her home planet. She thought maybe it would be helpful - maybe it would do them some good to know. But deep down that was not quite what was driving her. Something else wanted to her to know, some other pulling force. So every step she took, though heading in the proper direction, was just a bit too deliberately placed near the platform, just a bit too close to the fray. But it was worth it.

About halfway to the back she finally had a good vantage point, as the shuttle completed its landing sequence. She pulled her lustful eyes away from the shiny TIEs beside it and focused on the smoke emanating from the landing platform of the command craft. There, a man clad completely in black, descended from the ramp followed by an impressive Stormtrooper escort. He was toward over the troopers and moved with a vicious audacity that sent a chill down her spine. Kylo Ren. Royalty of the Rebellion turned scourge of the Resistance.

An unadulterated rage swelled inside her at the sight of him. He had betrayed the cause, killing dozens, murdered his own father, and even tortured Poe. These were all unforgiveable acts. Though Moira did not see herself as inherently violent, she wanted so desperately to attack him – to meet him with aggression for his wrong doings. But the sight of Cassian descending the stone slabs called her attention elsewhere. He had been quicker than she anticipated, though it was not the first time he had surprised her.

“I see you,” Moira murmured, picking up her pace as she circulated in the rims of the jungle.

“Then that means _they_ can see me too,” he replied back over the comm in her hand, sounding less than agreeable.

“They’re not paying attention,” she reassured him. “Too busy attending to the traitor.”

“Traitor?” He asked, but he processed it quicker than she could tell him. “Ren?

“In the flesh,” Moira seethed back. Though she was focused on Cassian, it was the memories of Poe’s tearful recanting that came to mind.

It was in the wake of the Hosnian atrocity, after the Resistance had destroyed Starkiller base in retaliation, that Poe had so desperately reached out to her. Moira was still stationed with the New Republic on Corellia and one of the lucky few assigned outside of the main fleet. As soon as Poe showed up at her doorstep, they had both burst into tears, just ecstatic to see one another alive. It was there he described to her how horrid his treatment had been at the hands of the First Order, how Ren had toyed with him and bent his mind to his will. And though she would always accept Poe for everything that he was, seeing him like that was borderline shocking. It had killed part of her to see him – the one who had always been so strong for them both – break down before her. It was the very same day that he convinced her to join the Resistance.  

“Moira,” Cassian’s voice cut into her thoughts with his warm resonance. “Where are you?”

“Almost where you are,” she responded, shaking the teary images of Poe from her mind. She quickly turned her casual candor into a sprint. Cassian had nearly descended the entire temple; she could see him climbing down the final rungs of it as she rounded the back. If there was one thing she could say about Cassian Andor, it was that he was committed; she had never seen a Resistance fighter with more tact or allegiance to the cause. And though he had been reluctant to trust her at first, he was embracing her more at every step. She had begun to develop a certain admiration for him because of that.

Moira had been ready to burst out of the jungle towards Cassian when she rather luckily caught the gleam of white in the corner of her eye.

“I see you too,” he said whipping off his own night goggles.

“Hurry,” she implored him, readying herself as he sprinted across the stone platform. It looked like a standard patrol, but they had to be fitted with some kind of night-vision to be wandering about on their own in the darkness. Moira wanted to kick herself for missing them before, for being to distracted by her own thoughts.  

Soon enough, Cassian was closer than close, running towards her in the shallows of the jungle, Moira smiling as he approached, pulling off her goggles to look at him. But it was then that her eyes flickered away, looking past to the blur of white; the blur of white that looked like it was raising its weapon towards them.

“Cass,” she whispered and the sudden flash of light registered in her eyes. Before she knew it, Moira was pulling his body toward her own, alternating their weights and flinging him to the ground.

 

“FT-2007, why did you fire?”

“I- I, thought I saw movement.”

“Our presence here is to be restrained, if you fire again without order, you will be reported, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

 

To say it burned would be an understatement. Moira felt as though a red hot blade had been taken to her stomach and twisted in. All she could do was frantically try to breathe as her limbs gave way beneath her, gravity pushing her backwards towards the ground. But Cassian caught her, suddenly on his knees, holding her close enough that she could see the perplexed look in his eyes. She tried to focus on that instead of the smell of her own burning flesh.

“Moira,” Cassian half-whispered, half-cried as he held her. “What did you do?” His voice was anxious and guttural.

“Well,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’ve been shot.”


	7. Wounded Revelations

The burning had quickly turned into a chilling cold. It cut through her skin and penetrated her bones with a repugnant dampness she could not escape. Moira’s torso was soaked with blood, the heavy liquid seeping out around the gloved fingers as she pressed forcefully into the wound. She was losing precious drops with every step forward in Cassian’s arms.

“ _My father, he was… a doctor,”_ she had told him. _“His office… there’s still med supplies in it.”_

It had been all he needed to hear before scooping her up and taking off back towards the compound - towards her childhood home. She could tell he was moving as fast as he could but the pain was substantial and made every moment drag.

“You’re a kriffing idiot,” he huffed, rounding a bend of trees. “You know that? Why did you do that? Why?”

She knew he was not searching for a response; that he was just venting his own frustrations with the situation, but she did not care. “I’ve never been – been shot before. Now I can… check it off… the list.”

Moira saw him flash a look down at her in the darkness, though she could not say whether it was out of incredulity or irritation.

“We’re almost there,” he told her, tone just as resolute. “Hold on.”

“The frequencies,” she breathed. “You should make sure… Kaytoo is – is getting them.”

He made a noise that very nearly sounded like laughter if not irater. “You don’t get shot and then start giving orders,” he murmured through his teeth. “That’s not how it works, Lieutenant.”

She wanted to respond but found her energy for such things quickly depleting. She settled for a thin smile. Her eyelids were heavy as she rested her head against Cassian’s arm. Darkness was very nearly on her when she was shaken back awake.

“Hey, Moira, stay with me. We’re here, okay? We’re here,” his voice was husky and apprehensive. She felt herself dip in his arms as he moved to type in the security code. And for at least a few moments, the sudden brightness of her home was jarring enough to keep her eyes open.

“Where?” Cassian demanded.

“Off my parents… room,” she pointed weakly ahead of them. “In – in the back.”

Cassian made off in that direction, pounding the opening mechanism with his elbow, lights switching on as they entered. The bedroom was less meticulous than the other rooms he had seen, but still had the edge of perfect preservation. Carefully, he set Moira down on the right side of the master bed. His eyes scanned the three additional doorways in the bedroom before following her gaze to the one closest to him.

“There… should be bacta patches… and Nyex, behind his – the desk,” she muttered.

“Keep putting pressure on it!” Cassian hissed, taking off through the doorway and into her father’s office.

The room was an overwhelming mess. Stacks of datapads and papers and books towered about the small room, each occasionally topped with varying pieces of medical equipment or crumpled notes. It was dark, seemingly only ever lit by a manual light that was too far out of Cassian’s way to bother with. He pushed through the jumble towards the large desk in the corner of the room, flinging open the set of cabinets mounted to the back wall. There were enough medical supplies within it to run a small practice. Cassian focused on what he needed, his eyes quickly finding their way to the familiar items. He grabbed the patches, the pain killer, an antiseptic, and a few other miscellaneous medicines before rushing back to Moira’s side.

She was dreadfully pale but she was still awake. Cassian sat down beside her on the bed, his legs hanging over the side as he looked over her. Moira’s eyes were wide and fearful as she gazed up at him; expression so raw and helpless that it was almost made him feel sick. With a careful acknowledgement, he removed her quivering hands from the wound, examining it for the first time in good light. The dark fabric of her shirt had frayed around it, leaving the wide and searing red area exposed. Thankfully the shot had missed the most sensitive organs, falling just beside her bellybutton. Cassian could only hope that it was not so deep as to unearth her intestinal track. The sudden image of a fellow Resistance spy laying disemboweled on cold steel flashed into his mind and Cassian did his best to suppress the memory. He would feel better once he removed the excess of blood and got a good look.

With adept hands, he took the remaining fabric of her shirt and ripped it open to the wound, rolling up what was left of it just beneath her breasts. He reached quickly for the stack of bacta patches, using the first just to soak up blood from the area – and there was a lot. But as the liquid cleared, he let out a breath. It was shallow.

“It looks mostly superficial,” he murmured, still analyzing the lesion. “Meant to wound, not to kill. I should be able to patch it up.”

There was the smallest, suffocated whimper as he took to it again. His eyes shot up to Moira who seemed near tears and rightfully terrified, blood dripping from her hands as she held them awkwardly before her.

Cassian frowned at the sad site, dropping the supplies to her side for just a moment. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he cooed. Cassian effortlessly slipped off the bloodied gloves from her hands and pushed Moira’s arms down to her sides, forcing her to relax. He then reached up towards her face and brushed away the wisps that had fallen into her eyes; his tenderness almost a surprise to him. He continued, moving to slide his hand behind her head, gently intertwining his fingers with her hair and rubbing a few small circles into her temple with his thumb. “It’s going to be okay,” he repeated to her, tone resilient and low like a prayer. “I’m going to take care of you. I owe you that much, don’t I?”

It was a moment before she gave him one of the weakest of smiles he had ever seen. But it was a smile nonetheless.

Cassian allowed himself to be caught up by his desire to comfort her for a moment more before remembering the Nyex. He quickly pulled away and fumbled the hypo-syringe into his hand while grasping one of her bloodied arms in his other. His eyes quickly found the ideal injection site in her prominent vein and Cassian rubbed the antiseptic quickly over spot. The needle was steady in his hand. 

“This should help the pain,” Cassian he told her before slowly injecting the liquid into her system.

“Yeah,” Moira murmured. “I know… what Nyex does.”

Cassian discarded the needle to floor and flickered his eyes back up to her for just a moment. He shook his head before returning to the wound.

Smug as her words were, they made Cassian feel better. If Moira was talking back to him, even just slightly, it had to be a good sign.

After a thorough and deep coat of antiseptic that seemed more painful than the wound itself, he started layering the bacta bandages. Cassian let the blood soak through each layer and absorb the medicine before adding another. It was an intricate process but one that he had seen succeed on other shallow wounds.  At first, blood fully consumed each bandage; then, slowly, it began to ease up.

“Oh… that’s right.”

Cassian looked up from his work to meet eyes with a dazed Moira.

“I just forgot how this stuff makes you feel,” she mumbled, her voice an offset monotone.

As he studied her face more thoroughly, Cassian realized the medicine was hitting her hard. The look of fear and anxiety had been replaced by a far more enigmatic expression. She was staring at him, plump lips just slightly agape, and a certain child-like wonder in her dilated eyes. The all-at-once dose he had given her was by no means dangerous, but it was definitely a lot more potent. It was normally distributed at intervals using an IV, but they had not had the time for that. It seemed Moira would just have to deal with the sudden high; Cassian thought it was probably the best thing to happen to her all day.

He heaved a relieved but exhausted chuckle. “So you’re feeling pretty great just about now, eh?”

She grinned back at him. “Yes, Captain.”

Cassian could not deny that the juxtaposition was peculiar; seeing her so suddenly pleasant after such a panicked couple of minutes was a bit shocking. But it brought a genuine smile to his face nonetheless. “I’m glad.”

“Huh. Three,” she muttered.

“What?”  
“At least… I think it’s three. Kind of two and a half. Second didn’t really… count.”  
Cassian realized she was babbling heedlessly. While the medicine was surely making her feel good, it certainly would not make it easy for her to form coherent thoughts. Or maintain a filter.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

She lifted a pale hand and wearily pointed it at him. “You.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow at her inquisitively.

“You know, how many times I’ve seen you smile,” she announced proudly. “Twice where you meant it, once where you faked it, but three total. Yeah… Three is right.”

He shook his head and added another layer of bandage, this time hardly any blood coming through. “Why exactly are you counting that?”

“Because you don’t smile a lot.” Moira’s deluded voice told him. “So I think that I’d like to… keep track, of when you do. Because, you know it’s, well, it’s nice.”

He shot a look up at her. “Is this your way of telling me I should smile more?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No.... I mean only if you want. I think you’re good both ways.”

“Both?” Cassian questioned as he sealed the final bacta patch on her wound.

“Yeah, both.” She replied, nodding proudly.

“Care to elaborate, Lieutenant?”

“Well, you have two expressions,” she began, holding up two fingers, like it was obvious. “The first one is all serious and angry looking. That’s the one you have all the time. Like, right now.”

Cassian nodded and did his best not take it as a slight. “And the second?”

“Your smile,” she reiterated, sounding rather alarmed that he had not already caught on. “It’s always one or the other.”

“So,” he began, moving off the bed to collect the trash that had amassed from her care. “To summarize, what your saying is that, most of the time… I look angry.”

“Yeah,” she said almost too chipper. “But you know, a good angry.”

Cassian discarded the supplies in an empty waste bin before returning to her side. He was trying desperately not to play with her too much in such an altered state. But there were some things even he could not resist. So he played into her musings. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as that. I think you’re just trying to nicely say that you don’t like me.”

She looked back at him as if he had just slapped her across the face. “How dare you,” she began in her unbalanced quiver of a voice. “I… I like you quite well. More than you know. You’re the one who didn’t like me.”

It took all his strength not to laugh at her frazzled words. He maintained his constant tone. “To be fair, I don’t like anyone at first.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Well,” Moira darted her eyes away from him. “You should have made an exception.”

“Don’t worry. I have.”  

And then Moira was smiling cheerfully once more.

As Cassian sat beside her, he realized how thankful he was for her. Though he had been initially so apprehensive to her presence on the mission, Moira had turned out to be more helpful and skilled than he had given her credit for. Not only that, but he thought they even worked well together – that there was an almost natural back and forth pattern to their interactions. She was warm and lighthearted and had dragged out emotions in him he had long marked off as lost. But, most baffling still, was why she had risked her life for his own having barely known him a day.

“Moira,” he asked, staring into her intricate eyes. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” She asked through a yawn.

Cassian pointed to her bandages.

“Oh.”

Rather suddenly, she turned her head away from him, digging her face into the pillows underneath her. “Come here and I’ll tell you.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” she muttered, pointing to the vast empty space nest to her on the bed.

Cassian could not deny that he was intrigued by her sudden furtive behavior. And if anything, climbing onto the sprawling space of the bed beside her seemed like the least dangerous thing he would do all day.

Cassian shook his head but pushed off the bed and rounded to it’s other side. He rather suddenly realized how badly his body had ached for such relaxation as his limbs touched its softness. As he laid down beside her, he thought he was in great danger of falling asleep.

Moira smiled at him, obviously pleased with herself. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”

“I am too,” Cassian admitted as he met her eyes with his own deep brown ones, getting comfortable against the pillows. “So?”

“So you were going to get hurt,” she murmured, her eyes barely open now. “I didn’t want you to be. So… I moved you.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he told her.

“I know I didn’t. But you would have done the same thing for me.”

“What makes you think that?” Cassian asked with the smallest edge of bellicosity.

She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes. “I just know. Because you’re a caring person. You just don’t act like it. I don’t think you like that… about yourself. It must make your job harder. Caring… it makes you weak sometimes, makes it hard to let go. So even if you don’t really care about me, even if it’s just the mission you care about. I couldn’t let you get hurt because… I think you’re a good person. And I care about you.”

Cassian could not remember the last time he had associated himself with the word ‘good’. Conniving, audacious, manipulative, ruthless – these were all words that he thought described his actions on a daily basis; words he would more immediately use to describe himself. And yet here she was, seeing into him as good. He wanted to pass it off as delusions of the medicine but it all struck too much of a cord with him.

Caring. She had called him caring. There were certain things Cassian did care about – freedom, the Resistance, Kaytoo. And, occasionally, something else would sneakily add itself to that list. Something that, if Cassian was not careful, ran a good chance of ruining him.

Yet as he stared down at it, hand extending towards his own in such a gentle manner, Cassian could not bring himself to push it away.  He instead found himself doing the opposite – slipping his fingers around her own.

A thin smile graced her lips at his touch and she looked thoroughly at peace. Cassian would watch her wound but he more than surmised that she would be alright. So Cassian let it be what it was and closed his eyes as well because he damn well knew that he needed the sleep. And despite the mission, despite the injury, despite whatever was about to begin – Cassian slept better than he had in years.


End file.
